Blood
by Autumne255
Summary: A mysterious 'Huntress,' with a unique ability to detect magic, comes to Camelot in search of Merlin. Torture(ish), so if you don't like that, don't read it.
1. Introduction

Hello there humans (or cats, or dogs, or *gasp* _timelords?_)! Inspired by the likes of Emachinescat and Kitty O, and hoping to (someday) join their ranks, I have decided to write _my very own Merlin fanfic! _Wow...I sound like such a _noobzor_...

Anyways, if you are reading this you obviously like Merlin. That, or you stumbled across my account while reading Hunger Games fanfiction, found _The Fire and Ice Games_, and, for some unknown reason, decided to look at my profile, where you found this story and decided to read it. If you haven't read _The Hunger Games_, read it now. Then read _Catching Fire_, and then _Mockingjay_. If you have read the whole Hunger Games series and loved it, good for you; you are an amazing person/fish/alien. If you have read the whole series and you hate it, then you can go die in a fiery pit of DOOM with Gale and Morgana (Kidding! Kidding! I love you all! Even if you don't like/ haven't read The Hunger Games, and I actually think that Gale is a great person...Peeta is just a bajillion and one times better than him). Wow, look at me, going off on a tangent like this, and I'm not even talking about Merlin. Shame on me. Shame on you, for continuing to read this. Shame on me again, for continuing to lead you on a wild goose chase into the middle of nowhere, where you will get completely, utterly, and hopelessly lost, run out of water, and most likely die. Luckily for you, I don't like it when my readers die, so I'm just going to shut up now and let you get on with your life, the next part of which I hope involves reading my story. Unless you're already dead, in which case, SUCKS FOR YOU HAHAHA! (Kidding! Kidding! I still love you, and I don't laugh at dead people (well, I do sometimes, but...)). Ummmm...I'm just going to shut up for reals now.

* * *

The Huntress tapped her hard, sharp fingernails on the back of the woman's chair, smiling when she flinched at the sound.

"I will ask you one more time," she hissed, taking the older woman's chin in her hand, "Where. Is. He?" The other woman looked away, frightened and in pain. The Huntress smiled as she surveyed her own handiwork; the cuts and bruises marring the woman's ruddy skin, the fear in her eyes. Her brown hair was plastered to her muddy forehead, sticky with sweat and blood. Tear streaks cut uneven gashes through the blood and dirt caked on her cheeks. The Huntress sighed and stood, walking away from the woman in the chair, looking distractedly out the window.

"You know," she said, still looking away from the chair, "I don't _need _you to tell me where he is. You are not the only person who knows," she smirked, "and, even if _people_ fail me, eye have _other _methods of finding those I seek. Although," here, she turned back to the woman in the chair, "if I am forced to use them, you can be sure that I will kill your son." The tortured woman let out a small wail, and the Huntress smiled harshly at her, "Now, Hunith," she continued, "is there something you would like to tell me? Like, for instance, where you have sent your son?" Hunith sobbed quietly before responding.

"Camelot!" she wailed, "I sent him away, to Camelot!" The Huntress began to laugh; a cold, horrible laugh, that chilled Hunith right to her core.

"Then my work here is done," she laughed as she opened the door, "I will be sure to send your son your regards." Hunith could still hear her laughter through the thin wooden door.

"No!" She shouted desperately, "Please! Don't..." but the rest of her words were lost in her sobs.

* * *

Don't kill me! That was pretty dark, I know, and I feel like a horrible person, doing that to Hunith. Who is this 'Huntress'? What does she want with Merlin? Find out this (or at least some of it) next chapter! Review, please, and tell me _your _opinion on the matter.


	2. Maera (Rewritten)

Hi guys. I'm sorry it's been so long. Two whole years. I'll bet you thought I wasn't coming back. (You forgot all about me, didn't you?).

Well, dear readers, you will be relieved to know that in the interim I have actually taken creative writing classes...and English classes...and have been doing other things that have greatly helped my writing. You also may have noticed that this used to be a different chapter. I rewrote it. Deal.

* * *

The sun shone brightly over Camelot, and prince Arthur was not pleased. He tried to shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight as he looked out over the courtyard at the new arrivals. Why did the sun have to be shining so brightly now of all times, and why did he have to be standing exactly where he was, facing directly into it. Where were clouds when he needed them?

"Don't squint, Arthur," came a woman's laughing voice, "it does not suit you."

"Lady Maera!" exclaimed Uther, approaching her with his hand extended towards her.

Lady Maera sunk into a graceful curtsy before smiling and allowing Uther to lead her up the steps to the palace. Merlin, standing off to the side, couldn't help but notice the lady Maera's strange appearance. There was no denying that she was incredibly beautiful. Her features were gentle, delicate, and doll-like. Her frame was slender, and she possessed the lean musculature of a runner. She looked about ten years Merlin's senior, but her eyes - her strange yellow-green eyes, which seemed almost to burn with some internal light - shone with an intensity far beyond her years. There was something else, too. Something...sad in her eyes. Merlin just couldn't quite place what exactly it was.

Her skin was smooth and the color of cream; blemishless but for a faint white scar on her left temple, which sliced down her cheek and tapered off at her jaw. But the most mesmerizing thing about Maera was her hair, which flowed loosely down her back in a fall of pure shining white.

Following closely behind Maera was a simply-dressed girl, who couldn't have been anything but her maidservant.

There could not have been a bigger difference between Maera and her handmaid. Where Maera's features gentle, soft, and feminine, her maidservant was hard-edged, stony, and masculine. Her face was long and triangular, her eyes dark and hooded, her lips set in a taut angry line; her cheekbones were low, sloping, and shallow, and her skin, while dusky, held the unhealthy bluish tone of someone who has not seen the sun in some time.

The girl caught Merlin's gaze as he glanced at her, and she shot him an angry, threatening glare. He quickly looked away, disconcerted. He had never seen that kind of blind hatred before, except in Uther's eyes when he looked down upon a magic user. It was unnerving to think that such a young girl could direct so much hatred at a complete stranger, and Merlin couldn't help but think that this girl must know something - something about him, something which burned in her heart and lit the fires of rage in her soul. Merlin shuddered. He would have to be wary around her. Something - he couldn't place what - told him that she was dangerous, that if she wanted to she could make something of her anger.

Merlin made a mental note to keep a watchful eye on Maera's servant, and followed them into the castle.

* * *

Meanwhile, a shadow crept through the woods outside of Camelot. It was looking for something - someone. Someone inside Camelot. The shadow slipped between trees and under the watchful eyes of guards, and into the citadel, unnoticed by all.

* * *

Face claim for Maera is Jessica Stam. Face claim for Martina is Sara Blomqvist.

You may have noticed I rewrote almost all of this chapter. I've been doing that. Keep an eye out for rewrites in my other stories as well.

Side note: I turn eighteen in six days. Happy birthday to me.


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